


Good Intentions

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-12-08
Updated: 2000-12-08
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Leo suffers from exhaustion and general angst and is aided by the Senior Staffers - but even good intentions can go astray.





	Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

      Joshua Lyman paused outside the door to the Chief of Staff's office.  The light

was still on which was kind of strange since it was a little after midnight already.  Sure

Leo McGarry stayed up late on many a night but, for once, there didn't seem to be any

immediate crises coming down.  Just the perennial, percolating crises that were always in

the background.  Idly, Josh stepped into the dimly lit office, looking around.

      "Leo, you in here?  You left your light on and you know how the Prez hates that,"

he murmured. 

      Rounding the corner, he glanced towards the desk, his gaze suddenly arrested.

      "Whoa!" he called out in a raised voice as he stared down incredulously at the

man huddled on the floor, leaning against the far corner of the desk, near the

bookshelves.

      Puzzled, the Deputy Chief of Staff walked a few steps forward and crouched

down a couple of feet away from the still man.  Head tilted to one side, his eyes quickly

flickered over the man before him, noting absently the folder clutched tightly in one hand

and held to his chest.

      "Boss," he now said softly, lowering his voice instinctively.  He waited for a

response.  There wasn't even a flicker.

      "Oh shit," Joshua muttered, his voice dropping even lower.

      He settled down, sitting cross-legged on the floor as he now raised his voice.

      "You know, Leo, this carpet ain't nearly thick enough to make it comfortable for

a sit-in.  How about we move over to the sofa?"

      He waited in vain for some kind of response.   Leaning forward, he squinted,

trying to see into the shadows.  The COS was huddled over, his head bent down, his chin

resting on his chest.  From what Josh could see, his eyes were closed.  He looked again at

the hand clutching the folder, noting the prominent blue veins and the stretched skin

across the flexed knuckles.

      Cautiously, Josh reached out a hand and lightly touched a bent shoulder.

      "Leo?" he said softly.

      No response.  Fear flaring up, he tightened his grip, feeling for the shoulder under

the light-weight jacket. 

      "Come on now, Boss," he continued.  "Stop scarin' me now, okay?"

      Scrambling up on his knees, he inched forward a little, hunching down, trying to

see.  A little more insistently he shook the shoulder he was gripping as he brought his

other hand up and now gripped both shoulders tightly.  Under his tight grip, he felt the

man shift, the movement slow and very unsteady.  The head rose, falling back against the

desk as eyes stared ahead, half-lidded, hidden.

      "That's better!" Joshua enthused.  "Now I need you to talk to me now.  Just let me

know what's goin' on?   Leo?"

      Leo took a deep, shuddering breath as he struggled to turn his head, blinking

rapidly as he tried to focus on the man kneeling beside him.

      "Josh?"  The voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.  "What?"

      "Seems like you decided to take a nap, boss," Joshua answered, keeping his tone

upbeat.  "How about we head over to the sofa?"

      Leo shook his head, the movement uncoordinated. 

      "Come on," Josh urged, fighting his fear down.  He reached down and, grasping

both arms, attempted to lift the man up.  Leo sagged in his grip, his head falling forward.

      "Careful!" said Josh quickly as he eased him back up against the desk again.

      "Damn, that's not going to work," he muttered to himself, maintaining a loose

grip.  "I've got to get some help," he decided aloud.  Cautiously, he reached out, pulling

at the folder still held in a tight grip.

      "Why don't I just take this and put it on the desk for you?"

      Suddenly Leo's grip tightened as he curled away from Josh, bringing both hands

up to press the folder to himself.

      "No," he mumbled thickly.  "I've got to get this to the President."

      Josh shook his head quickly.

      "He's upstairs, asleep, boss," he protested.  "You can give it to him tomorrow

morning."

      Leo shook his head, his eyes glittering as he looked across at the man beside him. 

"No.  He wants this and I have to get it to him," the COS mumbled stubbornly.  In a

sudden, almost spasmodic move, he attempted to rise up on his knees.  Surprised, Josh

fell back and then surged forward, his arms wrapping around Leo as he crumbled

forward.  Cradling him in his arms, Josh held the trembling man closely to himself.  The

folder fell, splattering across the floor as Leo lay limply in his deputy's arms.

      "Oh, Boss, what's happened?  What's going on?…  I've got to get you some help. 

But who?"

      He remained still for a moment, content to just hold Leo as he stared at the wall

close by.

      "All right.  I'm not doing you any good like this," Josh finally declared as he

carefully shifted now, lowering Leo to the floor, cradling his head as he lowered it down

on the carpet.  He then quickly sprang to his feet and, reaching across the desk and

knocking over some knick knacks, grabbed at the phone.  A moment's indecision, and

then he punched in a number, his fingers skidding across the buttons.

      "Come on, come on," he muttered as he looked down for a moment at the still

man lying at his feet.  "Pick it up. You've got to still be here…."

      "Hey!" he suddenly barked out.  "I need you over here at Leo's office.  Yeah,

now," he said impatiently.  "We've got a problem."  He listened for a moment and then

nodded sharply.  "Okay, see you over here."  He dropped the phone with a clatter and,

turning, sat down again with his back to the desk.  He reached out and lifted Leo partially

up, cradling him in his arms.  He looked down, a hand lightly touching one drawn cheek.

      "Hang in there, Leo.  Just hang in there.  We'll make it okay. I promise you," he

vowed.  "We'll make it better for you."

 

      Sam walked quickly into the office.  A little surprised, he looked around the

apparently empty office.

      "Josh?" he called out somewhat hesitantly.

      "Over here, Sam.  By the desk," called out Josh.

      His head tilted to one side, Sam walked around the office corner and then stopped

dead, staring at the scene before him.

      "I need your help," Josh answered the unspoken question.  "Leo's - sick."

      Sam quickly walked across the floor and knelt down close beside the two men. 

He looked in wonder at the man lying quietly in Josh's arms.

      "What happened?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

      Josh shook his head quickly. 

      "Jesus, I don't know, Sam," he confessed.  "I saw the light on and I walked in. 

You know how Leo forgets to turn off his lights and how the President has been raggin'

him on it."

      "Yeah, I've heard that lecture a few times," Sam grinned for a moment but it fell

away quickly.  "So what happened?" he insisted.

      "I found him slumped over here by the desk.  He's only said a few words to me. 

Something about getting some stuff to the President….'

      "That doesn't make any sense!" protested Sam.  "It's after midnight!"  He looked

down quickly at his wristwatch and then back up at Josh. 

      "I know," Josh answered simply.  "I tried to get him over to the sofa but he just

collapsed on me.  I knew I was going to need some help and that's where you come in."

      "What in hell can I do?  Shit, I'm not a doctor or anything…."

      "No.  But you can help me carry him over to the sofa at least."

      "Then what?"  Sam shook his head firmly.  "We've got to call a doctor.  Get

somebody over here."

      "No."  The voice was still low and hoarse.

      Simultaneously the two men looked down. 

      "Boss \- we need to get you some help," Sam now urged, reaching out a hand and

lifting one of Leo's.

      "No.  I'm okay.  Just a little tired."  Slowly he shifted in Josh's arms, turning to

look up at Sam.   "When did you get here?" 

      "Just a minute or two ago."

      "Can you remember what happened?" Josh pushed.  He wrapped a hand around

the man's throat, feeling for the pulse.

      Leo shook his head mutely.  "Headache," he muttered.

      "We'll get you something for that," soothed Josh.  He lifted his hand away and

looked over to Sam, shaking his head slightly.

      "That's it," said Sam.  He shifted, ready to rise to his feet.  "I'm calling an

ambulance -"

      "No," Leo returned, his voice stronger.  "Don't.  I don't need it.  I tell you - I'm

okay."

      "You're not okay!  You're flat on your back on the floor, for God's sake!"

      "So get me on my feet," Leo snapped back.  He shifted in Josh's arms.  "Help me

up, you two," he ordered.

      For a moment the two men hesitated and then Josh shifted, slipping out from

under the man as Sam now pushed in.  Taking an arm each, the three men rose up, Leo

sagging slightly between them.

      "Hold on now," Josh urged as the three men now walked slowly, Leo limping

heavily between the two men, over to the sofa.  "Just a little further."

      With a grunt, the two of them eased the COS down, Sam quickly cradling his

head as they lowered him back to lay on the sofa.  Josh knelt down beside the sofa.

      "How's that, boss?"

      Leo nodded abruptly, turning his head away as he closed his eyes.  His lips

remained pressed tightly together, dark shadows gathered, bruising under the sunken

eyes.  Sam reached out and pulled Josh up to stand beside him.

      "Let's leave him alone," he said softly.  

      "I want to stay here.  Keep an eye on him."  Frustrated, Josh ran a hand quickly

through his hair.  "Hell, I don't know what's going to happen.  We're operating in the

dark."

      Sam nodded sympathetically.

      "Let's get him comfortable at least," he decided.  "Lift him up so I can get this

jacket and tie off."

      "Right.  Good idea," Josh nodded vigorously.  "Right -" He murmured again as

he bent down and lifted the COS up again, Leo lying limply in his arms.

      "Can you do it?" Josh grunted as Sam moved in beside him and tugged at the

jacket.

      "Yeah, just about there," Sam answered as the two men danced around each other. 

"There," he said, victorious as he quickly flung the jacket towards a nearby chair.  "Now

just let me get this tie here…," he continued.  He tugged vigorously at the tight knot. 

"Damn, Leo, you're going to strangle yourself someday on these nooses of yours." 

Grimacing, he managed to work it loose and the tie soon joined the jacket.  "Okay, lower

him away," he instructed as he backed away.

      Josh gently lowered the man down.  Leo had lain quietly within his arms, his eyes

half-closed.  As his head was now lowered on the pillow, he closed them fully, turning

his head away.

      "Almost done, boss," Josh encouraged as he now turned and quickly pulled the

shoes off and lined them up neatly beside the sofa.  "See if there's a blanket or

something, will ya', Sam?"

      Sam, moving quickly, made for a small closet.  He returned just a quickly with a

light-weight blanket which was shaken out and then let go, the soft folds falling around

the recumbent man.  Josh watched, his hands going to ball up in tight fists in his pockets. 

He glanced once over to the silent man standing beside him.

      "Now what?" he murmured.

      "Now we try and make ourselves as comfortable as we can and see what

happens."

      "That's not much of a plan there," Josh chided as he turned and walked over to a

nearby chair.  Reaching down, he lifted the flung jacket and lay it across the small table

nearby, the tie joining it.

      "You got a better one?" Sam challenged as he moved to his own chair and wearily

settled into it, stretching out his legs in front of it, crossing them at the ankles.

      Josh shook his head as he collapsed in his own chair, sprawling in it.  "No, I guess

not," he admitted.   He looked over to Sam for a moment and the other man could see the

worry before Josh turned away and looked blankly ahead.  "But that still makes it a

crappy plan."  He paused for a long moment before continuing, still staring ahead.  "I'm

scared, Sam.  Something's really wrong and I don't know how to fix it…."

      "I know," Sam answered quietly.   "I'm scared, too.  We're just going to have to

wing this thing, I guess.  Be there for him."

      Josh shook his head quickly.  "That's not good enough, Sam."  He shifted

abruptly in his chair, one fist going up to thump softly on the chair arm.  "It's this

damned investigation.   It's gonna kill him -"

      "No it won't."  He leaned forward in his chair, intent, staring at the man seated a

few feet from him.  "We won't let it."

      "How are we going to stop it?" Josh snorted.  He now looked over at Sam, his

gaze mocking.  "We can only protect him so far.  We don't know what this is doing to

him.  All the attacks, the crap he's having to hear."   He shook his head again.  "No, my

friend.  This thing's only going to get worse - and you know it!"

      Sam opened his mouth and then shut it, leaning back in his chair.  "Maybe,

maybe," he muttered, barely audible to the man beside him.  "But let's just get through

tonight, okay?  Let's just get through the next six hours."

      "Okay," said Josh quietly. 

      The two men settled back, prepared to wait, to see, to be there when they would

be needed.

 

      Slowly the West Wing came to life as it's inhabitants returned to their offices and

cubicles, prepared to tackle the business of the nation once again.

      Sam stretched, arms high over his head, before he stood up and shambled over to

the man seated next to him.  Bending down, he shook him roughly by the shoulder.

      "Hey, wake up sleepy head.  It's another fine day in the Nation's Capitol," he

called out.

      Josh snorted awake, looking around as he ran a hand over his face.  "Yeah, okay,

okay.  I'm awake already."  He stood up, blearily looking around.  "I must've just fallen

asleep…."

      "Yeah, right!  You were snoring for a good couple of hours there me boy'o!"

      Sheepishly Josh gave a quick grin before he turned and walked towards the sofa.

      "How's he doing?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder briefly at his friend

before stopping and standing by the sofa.

      "Still sleeping," Sam answered, moving to join him.  "I checked on him a couple

of times and he hasn't stirred."

      Outside they could hear people greeting each other in the corridors.

      "Guess we'd better wake him up," Josh decided, glancing quickly at the clock on

a wall nearby.  "The President's gonna expect all of us in about thirty minutes."

      "How do we play this?" asked Sam as Josh bent down and gently shook Leo's

blanket-clad shoulder.

      "We play it quiet.  Real quiet."  He straightened as Leo stirred.  "Let's just see

what happens today, okay?"

      "We're not going to tell the other guys?  Toby, CJ?"

      "No.  I don't see any reason to.  Last night was - well, last night was just

something that happened.  There's no reason to think we're going to see anything else."

      "You hope," Sam murmured as Leo slowly sat up, holding his head in one hand

before he looked up at the two men beside him.

      "You two look like you slept in your clothes," Leo growled as he looked at first

one and then the other man.

      "Yeah, well, you might say we did," murmured Josh.  In a futile attempt, he ran a

hand quickly down one pant's leg, trying to brush out the wrinkles.

      "How you feeling, Leo?" said Sam.

      Leo shook his head slowly as he gathered up the blanket and shoved it over to the

side.  Gingerly he swung his legs off the sofa, ignoring the aborted move by Josh.

      "To tell you the truth, I feel like shit," he admitted in a low voice.  "What in hell

happened?  I fall off the wagon or something?"

      "No, no," Josh answered quickly as Sam shook his head rapidly.  "Nothing like

that.  I - I found you sitting on the floor, by your desk, last night.  It seemed like you

were having a - problem," he stuttered to a halt as Leo looked up at him, his expression

darkening.

      "On the floor?  Jesus…," he murmured.  He rubbed at his forehead again and then

tried to smooth down his hair.  "I can't remember…."

      Sam turned and marched briskly over to the small bathroom, flicking the light on. 

      "Well, right now the President's waiting for his morning briefing so let's get you

cleaned up.  Later you're going to see the Doc."

      Leo shook his head in denial even as he stood up, wavering on his feet.  Josh

quickly stepped forward and grabbed a forearm, steadying him.  Leo looked down at the

hand and then up at his helper.  Josh grinned amicably while gesturing with his free hand

for Leo to go ahead.

      "Take that idiotic grin off your face," the COS growled as he slowly walked

towards the bathroom.  Josh obediently slapped on a solemn face even as he and Sam

exchanged a rueful look.  Stopping at the bathroom door, Leo pulled away from Josh and

looked at the two men.

      "And I don't need to see the Doctor," he said in a defiant voice, spoiled by the

hoarseness underlying it.  He turned away, slamming the door behind him.  Through the

door they heard his muffled voice.  "Now you two idiots go get yourselves cleaned up. 

The President's expecting you!"

      Sam laughed as he and Josh moved away.

      "He sounds a lot better," he quirped.

      Josh nodded even as he rapidly walked back over to the desk and bending, lifted

the fallen folder.  Carefully he rearranged its contents before lowering it to the desk.

      "He's still going to see the Doc, though," he vowed as he joined Sam and the two

men walked out of the office.

 

      The morning briefing went well.  Except for a quizzical look from the President

as he eyed the three rumpled men before him, he said nothing.  Ignoring the puzzled

looks from the others, Leo quickly went through the business of the day, passing the

folder to President Bartlett that had fallen the night before.

      As the meeting broke up, Bartlett gestured for the three of them to remain.

      "Why is my senior staff looking like they were all out on the town last night?" he

asked lightly as he peered through the folder's contents.

      The COS, unaccountably quiet, stared at the carpeting.  Josh and Sam quickly

exchanged a look as the President now looked up, his curiosity growing.

      "Leo?  Josh?" he asked, a little more insistently.

      "Uh, Mr. President -" Josh took a stab at it.  "We all got caught up in some

paperwork and weren't watching the time.  It got so late that we just decided to camp out

here…," he explained, his voice trailing off a little limply.

      "I \- see," Bartlet answered, his own tone a little dubious.  He turned away and

moved towards his desk.  "All right.  Just don't make a habit of it.  I need you guys at

your best.  You, especially, Leo."

      A mumble of "yes, sirs" and "understood's" went up as the three men shuffled a

little.

      "That's all," Bartlett shooed them out.

      Gratefully the three men turned to go.  "Um, Josh - hang back for a moment,

would you?" the President called out. 

      Pulling up short, Josh nodded at Leo's warning glance before turning and walking

slowly back towards the large wooden desk.

      "Led looked a little tired there, Josh," Bartlett now said to him, his earlier jovial

tone lost as he looked up at the tall man before him.  "I don't want you and Sam keeping

him up til all hours.  He's too important to this Administration…to me…to risk him. 

Understood?"

      Josh nodded soberly. "Yes, sir.  We'll see that it doesn't happen again."

      "Good, good.  That's all I'm asking.  I need all you guys."

      "Yes, sir," the Deputy COS mumbled.

      "Okay, get out here.  I've got work to do," Bartlett dismissed him.

      Josh hurried from the office, Sam falling into line with him as they both strode

rapidly down the corridors towards their offices.

      "What happened?" Sam asked in an urgent low voice.

      "He said that he thought Leo looked a little tired and that he wants us to be more

careful with him.  That he's important to the President."

      "You didn't tell him?"

      "No.  There's nothing to tell.  We'll get Lro to the Doc's and see what happens."

      Sam shook his head as he peeled off to head for his own office.

      "I hope you're right, buddy," he murmured to himself as he gratefully fell into his

office chair.  "I sure hope that's all there is to it."

 

      He had resisted.  They had known he would but the two men had gotten the COS

to the Doc's office.  Explaining that he was feeling a little run-down after a silent dig in

the ribs by Sam, Leo had submitted grudgingly to a physical. 

      "Did you tell him about the headache?" Josh now asked as the three men walked

slowly back up to their floor in the West Wing.

      "What headache?" Lou answered shortly.

      "The headache you had last night and this morning, boss," said Josh dryly.

      "I don't have it now."

      "That's good.  But how do you know it won't come back.  Maybe that's what -

what knocked you out last night," Sam challenged.

      Leo shook his head stubbornly.

      "You're still not looking that great, sir," said Josh in a noncommittal tone as the

three men stopped in front of his office.

      "And is that your professional medical opinion, Mr. Lyman?" said Leo

sarcastically.

      "No, sir.  It's looking at what's before my eyes."

      Leo turned away, shaking his head.

      "I'm fine," he muttered.  "The Doc just said to get a little more rest and he gave

me some pills to help me relax."

      "Good.  That's a good step," Sam stepped in.  "And we'll just make sure

everything stay's fine."

      Leo snorted as he stopped, one hand on the office door. 

      "Wonderful.  Now I'm going to have you two boy scouts underfoot," he snapped

before turning and slamming the door shut behind him.

      "I'd say that went well," said Josh as the two men stood before the closed door.

      Sam shrugged.  "It's okay.  Can't expect any more.  But that's no reason for us to

stop, now is it?"

      Josh shook his head.  Sam stuck out his hand.

      "And we're in this together?" he asked solemnly.

      Just as solemnly, Josh took his hand in a firm handshake.

      "Together."

 

      The days slowly trickled by and though Sam and Josh kept a steady eye on Leo,

everything seemed to be going well.  It was late in the afternoon and the senior staff had

gathered in the small conference room.  Leo had sat at the head of the table and for a

while kept his firm hand on the meeting, guiding it and not letting it drift off on some

tangent or another.  But now, as Sam idly ran his pen around and around in doodles on

the pad before him, listening to Josh and Toby verbally jousting again, he looked up,

wondering how long Leo was going to let it go on.

      Warning bells sounded faintly as he stared down the table at the man sitting

quietly in his chair, his hands hidden from view, his head bowed.  From what he could

see, the man's eyes were closed and his brow was wrinkled as if he were fighting

something trying to well up within himself.  As unobtrusively as possible, Sam rose to his

feet and ambled in a non-direct line towards the COS.  As he drew closer he could hear as

the man drew in one long, slow breath, exhaling it with a slight hiss before drawing in the

next one.  Josh, throwing up his hands in exasperation as Toby scored another verbal hit,

looked over to Sam, the riposte suddenly lost as he watched the young speech writer stop

before the quiet man and bend down.  It only took a few seconds before Sam straightened

and the two men locked eyes.

      "Josh," Sam called out in a steady, low voice.

      Immediately the deputy COS began walking towards the two men, the argument

forgotten.  Toby watched, bewildered.

      "What the hell," he muttered as he skewed around rapidly in his chair and

watched Josh walk away.

      "And that's it?" he called out in an irritated voice to the retreating back.  "You're

given up?"

      "I hope so," whispered CJ as she also swung around in her chair.  "I mean I really,

sincerely, hope that you two will stop this before I have to kill you both."

      Toby threw her an exasperated look even as he rose partially out of his chair,

straining to see as Josh rested a hip on the table edge, blocking Leo from his view.

      "What's going on over there?" he called out peevishly.

      Ignoring him, Josh and Sam exchanged a solemn look before Josh leaned forward

and rested a hand lightly on Leo's shoulder.

      "Hey, Boss, you want to tell us what's going on?" he asked softly.

      Behind the three men, Toby and CJ had risen and now, somewhat hesitantly, CJ

walked closer, straining to see over the two men standing in front of the seated man.

      "What's going on?" she called out as she walked closer.

      "They've just decided to ignore us," Toby called out, throwing himself back in his

chair in disgust.

      "Quiet, Toby," CJ called out as she now stood beside Sam.  "There's something

wrong with Leo."

      "What?" The chair clattering back behind him, Toby hurried towards the huddle,

shoving himself in on the other side of the chair.  He bent down, looking sharply at the

man who was now the center of attention. 

      "Damn…," he whispered as he slowly knelt beside Leo.   "His coloring is

terrible…."  He paused, his head tilted to one side.  "And I don't like the sound of that

breathing," he added.  Reaching up a steady hand, he delicately felt for the cartaroid pulse

at the base of the jaw.  Though all this Leo continue to sit, eyes half-veiled, drawing in

one slow, laborious breath after another.

      "Josh?  Sam?"  CJ's voice rose, strained.  "What's going on?  What's

happening?"

      "I doubt if they know," Toby shot back as he settled back on one knee and

glanced up quickly, piercingly, at the two silent men before him.  "What happened a few

days ago?  When you three came to the briefing looking like you'd wrestled with a

polecat and lost?"

      Josh answered him, his voice a low, even monotone.  "I found Leo in his office. 

He'd collapsed, I guess.  Sam and I got him over to the sofa and then we stayed with him

for the rest of the night."

      "And you two geniuses didn't think to call in any help?  Professional, medical

help?" asked Toby, his voice gruff with anger and worry.  He let his fingers fall away,

shaking his head.

      "He didn't want it," Sam returned sharply, his own worry bright in his eyes.  "We

got him to a doctor the next day and Leo told us that he was fine.  The Doc had given him

some pills."

      "And you two just went along with that?" CJ cried out.  "Of all the asinine,

idiotic…."  She broke off, a hand going to cover his mouth, her expression stricken above

it.

      "Well, we're going to do something about it now," declared Toby, rising to his

feet and moving towards a phone.  "I'm calling an ambulance."

      "No!" Josh ripped out, turning and holding out a staying hand.

      Toby stopped and slowly swiveled around to stare coldly at him.

      "Why?" he said in a dead flat voice.

      Josh rose to his feet, moving away from the small huddle and towards the angry

man.

      "Because what do you think will happen to Leo when the Press hears that he was

taken away in an ambulance and had to be hospitalized?  That'd be the end.  He's out."

      "And you're willing to risk his life to avoid a little press coverage?"

      CJ shook her head, her hand still hiding her trembling lips.  Now she dropped it as

she also turned towards Toby.

      "No, we're risking his life to save his life," she said simply.

      Toby shook his head.

      "That makes no sense," he returned shortly.

      CJ slowly walked towards him. 

      "Listen to me, Toby," she said in a steady voice, but behind which lurked tears. 

"You take him away from here.  From the President, and you might as well kill him

because he won't want to live.  This is his life.  What he's spent his life doing.  If this

gets out - if the Press write this up - and you know they will.  They'll be all over it like

yesterday's garbage - then he's gone."  She stopped now beside him and reaching out,

took an arm gently.  "And you know that.  You'll kill him."

      Toby silently fought this, his lips twisting as he looked away.  CJ waited quietly

beside him.  Josh joined them, silent, watchful.

      "All right," Toby finally said, his voice low, a hint of defeat in it.  He quickly ran

a hand across his mouth as he looked at first Josh and then CJ.  "When is the First Lady

due back?"

      "What, from, uh, Kenya, isn't it?" Josh answered, a little startled at the seeming

nonsequitur.

      Toby shook his head impatiently even as Sam brightened, turning away from Leo

to look over at the small huddle.

      "Great idea, Toby!" he cried out enthusiastically.  "She'll be able to help him and

keep quiet about the whole thing at the same time."

      "The First Lady?" Josh muttered, still confused.  He looked over in bewilderment

at Sam.  "Why would Mrs. Bartlett be of any help -"

      "I think Leo isn't the only one that could use a little help," Toby said dryly as

Josh reddened, looking away with an embarrassed shrug.

      "Right, sure, she can bring over her little black bag and work some magic on

him," he muttered sheepishly.

      "But she's not back for another three days.  What do we do in the meantime? 

Apparently, that trip you and Sam cooked up for him to the Doctor's office was a bust,"

CJ interjected, impatient with Josh's embarrassment.

      "I'd kind of like to know the answer to that, too," a dry, hoarse voice spoke out.

      In tandem, CJ, Toby and Josh turned back towards the table even as Sam whipped

around.

      "What do you folks think you're going to cook up, hmm?" continued Leo as he

looked at each one of them in turn.  "Because I can tell you right now that I'm not about

to go along with any hair-brained scheme that you -" he pointed at Josh, "…and you -"

he whipped his finger around, aiming it at Sam, "…have cooked up."

      "It's nothing like that, Boss," Sam protested, holding up his own hands in protest. 

"We really haven't had time to cook up anything yet."

      Leo grunted, shifting in his chair stiffly.  "That's good," he gruffed.  "Just keep it

that way."

      By now the other three had hurried back to the table, Toby quickly going around

it to the other side to stand next to Leo's chair while Josh crowded up next to Sam and CJ

fluttered around the edges, standing on tip-toe.

      "How are you feeling?" asked Toby, bending down and resting a hand on the

back of the chair.

      "Fine," said Leo shortly, glancing at Toby out of the corner of his eye before

looking away.

      Toby shook his head, unconvinced.  "I don't think so.  I think that you haven't

been 'fine' for some time now.  I think that you've been trying to hide it from all of us

and you were doing a pretty good job of it until these two…." He glanced at Sam and

Josh quickly before returning his stern gaze to the man huddled in the chair beside him,

"…managed to walk in your office at the wrong time."

      "Let's not over-dramatize the situation, shall we," Leo chuffed.  "Yes - I'll admit

that I've been a bit  - under-the-weather -- but hell, that goes with the job, doesn't it?"

      "I'd say it's more like you're going down for the third time, wouldn't you?" said

the Communication's Director dryly.  He straightened, looking at the others crowded

around.  "So what's your big plan?  How do we handle this?"

      Sam and Josh exchanged a quick look, Sam shaking his head slightly.

      "You do have a plan, don't you?" Toby pressed, his voice rising.

      "These two always have a plan," Leo interjected as he bowed his head.  "It's

whether it makes any sense whatsoever that's the question."

      "That's what I had assumed," Toby finished.  "So I suggest that as a first step we

call this meeting adjourned and get you back to your office.  Then you're going to take a

nice, long nap while these two go and get you some clothes from your hotel room.  I want

you to stay here so we can keep an eye on you."

      "No way!" retorted Leo, his head coming up as he whipped around to stare up at

Toby.

      "Okay.  That makes sense," Sam interjected. "That way we can keep an eye on

him.  I don't want him going home by himself and something happening."

      "Right. And the four of us can take up some of his schedule.  Try and lighten the

load a little," added CJ.

      "I don't want to lighten the load!" Leo spat out.  "You people have got to stop this

idiotic -"

      "Too late, boss," said Josh cheerfully.  "Whether you like it or not, you're stuck

with us for the duration."

      "And if I don't like it?" said Leo in a low, dangerous voice.  He glared up at Josh,

one hand fisted tightly on the tabletop.

      "Then we go to the President," Josh answered him, his own voice low and even.

      Even CJ looked a little startled at this as the others fell silent, caught up in the

battle between the two men.

      "You wouldn't dare?" Leo said in a harsh whisper.

      "Wouldn't I?   You're too important to all of us to just let you go to hell in a

handbasket - sir.    We will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and well.  Whatever. 

And if that means tying you to the sofa, well, so be it."

      "I won't let you bother the President over this."

      "Fine.   Then cooperate."

      Leo sighed, visibly deflating as he leaned back in the chair. 

      "God save me from fools and  madmen," he murmured.

      "Amen," Toby answered softly even as he reached out and grasped one of the

man's arms.  "Now let's get you back to the office."

      Josh quickly moved to the other side and, as Sam and CJ backed away, Leo was

helped up slowly from his chair.  Resting for a moment in their sturdy grasp, he raised his

head and looked bleakly over at Sam and CJ.

      "I guess you win," he muttered.

      "No, you win," said Sam.  "We're going to help you win this fight.  All of us."

      Leo nodded, silent, as the three men slowly walked towards the door.

 

      In the soft light cast by the lone lamp over at the far corner of the office, the man

lay stretched out on the sofa.  A tray of food sat untouched beside him on the small coffee

table.  Restlessly he moved about, shifting and turning, his head dragging across the

pillow.  The inner door opened and CJ slipped into the office, closing it firmly behind

her.  She very quietly walked across the floor and stopped a few feet from the sofa,

watching with her hands on her hips as Leo was unable to find any peace.

      "This was not part of the bargain," she said in a soft, scolding voice even as she

now walked the rest of the distance to the sofa and came around the edge of it into the

man's view.

      Leo glanced at her and then looked away, pulling the blanket up higher around

him reflexively.

      She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

      "Oh, Leo," she sighed.  "I like your pajamas.  Midnight blue suits you."

      "Um, thank you," he grumbled, looking at her out of the corner of his eye but

refusing to face her directly.

      She sighed again and then turned slightly, looking down at the untouched tray.

      "You haven't eaten anything," she chastised.

      "I wasn't hungry."

      "Well, you should be.  It's been a long day and you need to eat something."

      "You're right.  It has been a long day and you should be at home, CJ," Leo shot

back.  "What in hell are you doing here, anyway?"

      "I'm making sure that you eat something and then getting some rest, you big

idiot," she snapped back.  "Honestly, Leo.  Don't make this harder on yourself than you

have to.  You're going to have to let us help you."

      He shook his head, chewing on his lower lip. 

      "I don't need a nursemaid," he said sullenly.

      "No, you need a keeper!"

      Exasperated, CJ leaned down, placing a hand firmly on Leo's brow, feeling for a

temperature.

      "Hmm, I don't feel any temperature," she mused.

      "Of course you don't!  I keep telling you people that I'm fine!"

      "If you're so fine, then why don't you just get up and tell me to get out of here!"

      With a snarl, Leo wrenched himself up partially as CJ backed a step away.  But it

was only for a moment and then he fell back, his face contorting in pain.

      "No!" CJ cried out softly even as she darted forward, bending down over him. 

"Here, let's try and make you a little more comfortable.  Straining, she lifted him up,

trying to support him as he sagged in her arms.

      "Just let me get this pillow straight," she panted as she wrapped an arm around

him, holding him to her as she pummeled the pillow with her other hand.

      "There," she muttered triumphantly as now, with both hands she lowered him

down.  Quiescent, he allowed her to fuss over him as she shook the blanket out before

letting it fall back over him and then tucking it in firmly around him.  For a brief moment,

she allowed herself to lay a hand gently along one drawn cheek before she turned away,

running a hand quickly across her eyes and then reaching for the food tray.  She sat down

with a bump on the coffee table and briskly began stirring the cold soup before lifting up

a spoonful.

      "Good thing this stuff tastes good cold," she murmured even as she waited

expectantly.

      Leo lay on the sofa, watching her.  Even as she waited, he turned away, his

movement slow and faltering.

      "Leo?"

      "Please.  Not - now," he answered in a low voice.  "I promise.  I'll eat later. 

Later…." His voice died off.

      Disappointed, she lowered the spoon down and, turning, set the tray back down.

      "Do you think you could sleep now?"  Her voice was low and sympathetic.

      He nodded silently.

      "All right.  Then I suppose I should go then…."

      "It would be better…. I don't want you to have to do this."

      "I don't have to do it, Leo.  I want to do it."

      He nodded again.  His face was still turned away from her.

      She waited, the seconds and then the minutes piling up on each other.  Finally she

stirred.  Her voice was now hesitant, low.

      "Um, would you like me to, um, maybe I could hum a little lullaby or

something…." Her voice died off for a moment in embarrassment before she continued

quickly.  "I mean, that's what my mother used to do when I couldn't sleep.  Maybe if you

told me what your mother -"

      "My mother used to argue a lot," Leo said flatly.  "She and my father.  All the

time.  That's what I fell asleep to."

      "Oh, Leo," CJ breathed.   She stood up abruptly.  "I'm sorry."  Suddenly clumsy,

she turned away, bumping against the coffee table blindly.  "I'm not doing any good here. 

I'll - just go."

      Quickly, almost running, she made for the door.  As her hand reached for the

doorknob, a low, hoarse voice stopped her.

      "You did good, CJ.  You did all you could."

      She nodded in the darkness and slipped out the door, pulling it closed noiselessly

behind her. 

 

      "Sam, Josh - wait up a moment!" CJ called out a little breathlessly as she jogged

down the corridor towards the two men.  The President had called a meeting and the

senior staff were gathering from all corners of the West Wing.

      "Did he eat anything this morning?" she murmured as she fell into step with the

two men.

      Sam shook his head, a small frown marring his usual good looks.

      "Yeah \- a couple of pieces of toast and a cup of coffee," he said in disgust.

      "That's all?  Didn't you try to -"

      "Try to what, CJ?" said Josh out of the corner of his mouth as they neared the

door to the oval office.  "I don't think we're ready to force feed him yet, do you?"

      "I just meant," she said as she swept by the two men into the most famous office

in the world. "That we're not going to get very far with this if we can't get him to eat at

least a little something."

      "True," admitted Sam as he quickly staked out the corner seat on one sofa.  "And

we'll work on it as soon as we get this done."

      She nodded, clearly unhappy, even as she walked towards a chair.  At the other

end of the sofa, Leo stood, arms crossed, staring at the brilliant blue carpeting at his feet. 

Toby stood a discrete couple of feet away from him, keeping an eye on him without

being too blatant about it - something that the man had perfected as an art.  Josh grabbed

the chair next to Sam even as the President swept into the room, waving airily at

everyone as they stood more or less at some kind of attention.

      "Sit down, everyone," he called out jovially, walking over to the chair at the head

of the coffee table and sitting down.

      Amid the shuffle of people taking their seats, Toby reached out a hand and

gripped Leo's elbow, keeping it hidden from the President, as the COS somewhat slowly

sat down.  Toby quickly sat down beside him, flipping open a folder and staring with

seeming intent interest at its contents.

      The meeting rambled on as they all did.  But as the minutes ticked by, the

President's attention began to focus on the only quiet person in the group.

      He leaned towards Leo, flapping a piece of paper at him.

      "You seem awfully quiet today, my friend," he said lightly.  "You usually help

me keep this rowdy bunch in line."

      In the sudden silence that fell as the President spoke, Josh and Sam exchanged a

quick look of mild panic even as CJ coughed loudly, breaking the silence.

      Bemused, Bartlet looked over to her as she waved a hand, fending off Josh's

attempted help as he half-rose from his chair.

      "CJ?" said Bartlet, mildly concerned.

      "Sorry about that, Mr. President," CJ gasped, looking down at the pad she tightly

grasped in one hand.  "I \- um - I swallowed the wrong way, I guess," she explained

somewhat lamely.

      "You've got to watch that," Bartlet chastised, shaking a finger at her in mock

warning.  "We don't want our Press Secretary at a loss for words!"

      Beside her, Josh sank back into his chair, his eyes flicking from Bartlet to Leo and

Toby.  While the President's attention was drawn away, Toby had leaned forward and

was talking quickly and intently to Leo.  The COS nodded abruptly and rose to his feet,

the movement a little uncertain but hidden from the President.

      "Mr. President," he said in a gruff voice as Bartlet swiveled around in some

surprise.  "I think we've taken up enough of your time.  You've got a 10:30 briefing with

the Secretary of Agriculture to talk about bananas -"

      "Oh, Leo, not again?!" Bartlet cried out in mock horror.  "I thought we'd gotten

that taken care of."

      Leo shook his head, his lips quirking up for just a moment.  "I'm afraid not, sir. 

And it looks like we may have to add pineapple to the list."

      "A regular fruit salad," Bartlet groaned as he slumped back in his chair.

      The others quickly rose, gathering papers together hastily. In an untidy bunch,

they made for the door, Toby and Josh flanking Leo.

      "Leo," Bartlet called out as they neared the door.

      The COS stopped, turning partially around and looking over his shoulder, the

other two men stopping with him.

      "Don't forget that report you were working on for me.  The one about that case in

Delaware."

      "Yes, sir.  I'll have it to you this afternoon at the latest, Mr. President."

      "Fine, fine," Bartlet nodded, heaving himself up from his chair and moving

towards his desk.  "Anytime today will do, Leo.  Thanks."

      "You're welcome, sir," said Leo as Toby and Josh ushered him out the door.

      As the door clicked shut, the President looked up and for a moment his gaze

wandered over to where his COS had been sitting before he shook his head and, reaching

out, lifted up the phone.

 

      Leo gathered the papers neatly together and, closing the folder, rose heavily to his

feet.  Pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment between two fingers, he ignored the

faint tremor of his hand even as he swept the folder up and, rounding the corner of his

desk, walked towards the closest door.

      "Margaret?" he called out as he pulled it open and advanced a few steps into the

outer office area.  His gaze swept over the empty desk and, with a sigh, he flicked the

folder against one leg, glancing up at the wall clock.  Shaking his head, he took a step or

two towards the other end of the bullpen area where the other senior staff had their

offices before stopping.  He stood motionless for a moment before turning abruptly and

walking rapidly in the other direction.

      The room was empty and, satisfied, Leo walked over to the wooden desk and

carefully set the folder down on one corner of it.  For a moment he stood very still, letting

his gaze wander across the gleaming wooden top.  He reached out a hand and lightly

touched one of the glass knick-knacks, the tremor more pronounced.  Frowning, he pulled

his hand back.  His eyes closed and both hands now gripped the desk edge as he stood,

bracing himself against its solid bulk.  It was only for a moment or two and then, with a

muffled sigh, he turned and made his way back out.

 

      Toby marched briskly down the corridor, anxious to get that briefing book back

again that he had inexplicably left in Sam's office before getting to the meeting.  Turning

the corner, he slowed, his eyes narrowing as he watched Leo McGarry standing a few

yards in front of him.  One hand was pressed to the wall for support as he leaned against

it, his head down.  For a moment the Communication's Director stood indecisively in the

middle of the hallway before, shaking his head, he now walked forward.

      "Leo?" he said in a low, even voice as he stopped beside the waiting man. 

Quickly he looked around before reaching out and placing a hand lightly against the

man's slightly bowed back.  "What's going on?"

      With an effort, the COS straightened, letting his hand fall from the wall as he

stared straight ahead.

      "Toby," he said in noncommital voice.

      "I think," Toby continued, letting his hand drop.  "That the two of us need to get

to your office.  The others are probably already waiting."

      "Probably," Leo muttered even as he slowly started walking.

      "May I ask what you've been doing?" said Toby as he kept the same slow pace

down the hallway.

      "I needed to get that report to the President," answered Leo shortly.

      "And Margaret couldn't have taken it for you?" Toby continued to press.

      "Margaret wasn't there."

      "Then surely one of us could have done it for you…."

      "The Senior staff are not messenger boys."

      Toby nodded as they drew near Leo's office.

      "No.  But neither is the Chief of Staff.  If I didn't know better, I'd say that you

were trying to reneg on your part of the bargain."

      "And what bargain is that, Toby?" snapped Leo, stopping in front of the door, his

hand on the knob.  "That I let you people play nursemaid?  I never agreed to that.  I was

coerced into it.  And right now I need you to back off."

      Angrily he opened the door, marching into the office.  Behind him, Toby sighed, a

hand going up to stroke his beard.

      "This is not going to be easy," he murmured, walking into the room and swinging

the door closed behind him.

 

      The meeting was chaos.  From the beginning, as Leo sat scowling off into space,

there had been no agreement and no progress.

      "Enough, people," he finally called out loudly.  "I don't have time to waste going

around the hamster wheel with you folks."  Rising, he pushed his chair away from the

table abruptly and stalked towards his desk.

      Sam and Josh exchanged a quick look as CJ leaned toward them across the table. 

"Go after him!" she urged, barely moving her lips.

      Reluctantly, Josh slowly shoved his chair back and dragged his feet through the

carpet, hands scrunched into his pockets, as he made his way over to the desk and the

angry man.

      "Leo…," he said in a low, placating voice.

      "What in hell do you want?" The COS muttered at him, sweeping up a handful of

folders.  "I don't have time to play…."

      "We're not playing here, sir," countered Josh, his tone growing more firm.

      Leo looked up at him and his deputy could see the anger and the disappointment

in the man's eyes.

      "I've listened to us argue, and debate, and make up excuses to do this or not to do

that, and I'm tired of it.  It's got to stop."  He turned away, fumbling with the folders.

      "It will stop.  We're just going through a rough patch here," Josh protested.

      "Maybe.  Or maybe we're stuck in the mud so deep that we'll never climb out

again," Leo said, the words almost inaudible.

      The files danced in his hands.

      "Wait a minute -"  Josh blurted out even as he reached up, grabbing at the papers

that threatened to dribble out of the man's hands. 

      "Jesus," he muttered as he watched the COS tuck his trembling hands under his

folded arms and turn away.

      "Sam \- get over here," he continued as he threw the pile of papers sloppily onto

the desk.

      Behind the two men, Sam had darted forward, dancing around CJ as she stood

frozen, looking over to Josh and Leo.

      "What's going on?" Toby called out as he now sat on the edge of his chair, also

watching.  

      An aborted move by Josh was checked as Leo jerked away from him, stumbling

up against the edge of the desk.

      "Careful!" Sam cried out as he circled the two men, coming in from the other

side.

      Josh, reacting instinctively, reached out again, grabbing Leo's arm in a firm grip.

      With a snarl, the COS turned, thrusting at the outstretched arm, trying to knock it

aside and win freedom.

      "That's enough," Sam gritted as he now moved in and got his own grip on the

struggling man.  "You're just going to hurt yourself more…."

      The weeks of tension and frustration had finally capped and now Leo McGarry

fought against his two shadowed opponents, their identities lost in a haze of exhaustion

and anger.  Dancing awkwardly in the small space, Josh and Sam attempted to pacify

him, ignoring the badly aimed blows and angry words that washed over them.

      "You've got to hold him," hissed Sam.

      "Whatcha' think I'm workin' at," Josh returned, his own breath coming faster.  "I

don't want to hurt him…."

      "Too late for that," Sam insisted as he moved closer, pinning one arm down. 

"Now, now…."

      Moving quickly, Josh gathered Leo up into a huge bear hug, pressing him back

against himself as Sam, for the moment, backed away.

      Exhausted, Leo stopped, sagging in the arms that now held him upright.  Head

bowed, he now waited.

      The three men were thus frozen in their grim tableau.  Toby and CJ had watched,

horrified, from the sidelines, unable to help and afraid to hinder.  Now Toby walked

forward, moving slowly, deliberately.

      "Let him go," he said in a quiet voice.

      Bewildered, Sam looked over at him.

      "Toby -"

      "Let him go." The pitch still low and even.  "We've done enough harm for

today."

      Sam shook his head in silent protest as Josh, with a weary sigh, took a step

backwards, lifting his arms up and away.  Freed, Leo swayed for a moment on his feet

before he walked the few steps to a chair and gripped the high back of it.

      Toby continued his steady pace until he stood a couple of feet from the man who

stood with bowed head.

      "Sir, please except our apologies," Toby began in a formal voice.  He looked

around, his gaze piercing on each one in the room.  "We seem to have succeeded in only

making it worse….  That was not our intention.  But the best of intentions can sometimes

serve as excuses for failure."

      Slowly, wearily, Leo raised his head, his own expression haunted.

      "No, I should be the one to apologize," he admitted finally.  "I know you all are

just trying to help."  He nodded his head and for a moment that small smile that the staff

had come to know and hope to see appeared.  But it was only for a moment.  "Maybe

we've all made some mistakes…."

      Sam and Josh, both looking remarkably abashed, inched their way forward, being

very careful not to crowd in too close.

      "We didn't mean to - to make it worse, sir," Josh tried, his own voice a little

wobbly.  "Hell.  I guess it was something like fools step in -" he fumbled to a halt.

      Leo looked at him, that small half-smile again flickering.

      "I think we've all managed to 'step in it' one way or another, Josh."  He sighed. 

"And now, if you folks don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while."

      Amid hurried "no problem's" and "of course's", the Senior Staff hastily gathered

up their files, folders, coffee cups, and assorted miscellany and trickled in an untidy

stream towards the door.

      "Thank you," Leo called out after them and Sam turned, the last one out the door

and nodded before pulling it shut behind him with a small click.

 

      Exasperated, President Bartlet looked around his office one last time, hands on

hips.

      "Now where in heck did Leo put that file?" he mused aloud.  "I'm sure he must

have left it here."  He shot back the cuff of one sleeve and peered at his watch face.  "It's

already after five and he did say this afternoon…."

      Half-heartedly he lifted a folder or two again on his desktop before turning away.

      "Enough of this foolishness.  Best to just ask the man," Bartlet decided as he

marched across the room to the connecting door.

      Pulling it open, he peered in the office, squinting a little in the low light.

      "Leo, you in here?" he called out as he now walked briskly in.

      "Leo?"

      He pulled up short as he watched his COS struggle up into a sitting position on

the sofa, one hand shielding his eyes for a moment from view.

      "What's going on?" Bartlet now continued, his voice softening as he walked

towards his friend of almost 40 years.

      "Sir \- Mr. President," answered Leo, his voice hoarse.  Gripping the sofa arm, he

attempted to swing his legs off the sofa.

      "No, no, my friend," Bartlet waved him off as he quickly took a chair beside the

sofa.  "Don't get up."

      "Yes, sir."  With a muffled, sigh, Leo settled back somewhat warily on the sofa,

his eyes glittering in the soft light.

      "I think it's time you told me what's going on, don't you?"

      Leo shook his head, looking away.

      "I wouldn't know where to begin, sir."

      "I've always found that the best place to begin is at the beginning," Bartlet chided

him, softening it with a quick smile.

      "But that's only if you know where the beginning is."

      "Fair enough," Bartlet admitted.  "So just start somewhere, anywhere."

      "You're going to insist on this, aren't you?"

      The President nodded vigorously.  "You bet your ass I am!"

      "Okay," Leo muttered in defeat.  He glanced quickly over at his friend and then

resolutely looked away again.  "It's been - tough - these last few weeks and I guess it's

just kinda' caught up with me.  No biggie."

      "Caught up with you?" Bartlet breathed.  He hunched forward in his chair.  "I

don't think I like the sound of that, my friend."

      "I told you, it's not a big deal.  I'm just feeling a little tired is all."

      Bartlet looked keenly at the man lying before him.  "When my Chief of Staff and

my best friend admits to me that he's feeling a 'little tired' then it's time to call out the

ambulance!

      Leo snorted rudely at this but Bartlet continued, ignoring him.

      "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

      "Yes, sir.  He agreed with me and told me to get some more rest."

      Grimacing, the President leaned back in his chair.  "Remind me to check on that

guy's credentials later," he muttered.  Annoyed, he ran a hand through his thick hair.  "I

want Abbey to get a look at you.  Give you a thorough going-over."

      "I'm not a horse, Mr. President!" Leo countered briskly.  "I don't need to be

checked to see whether I should be put out to pasture or not!"  His voice dropped, the

momentary fire already lost.  "Sides, that's what those idiots are already planning -

without my approval, I might add."

      "What idiots?" said Bartlet, puzzled.

      Leo gestured towards the doorway.  "The kids."

      "I always did say that your office was the biggest play pen in the White House,

Leo."

      The COS shook his head, brushing the momentary levity away.

      "What I really need is for everyone to just back off.  Let me catch my breath

again."

      "I'm afraid this is one time I'm not going to be able to go along with you," Bartlet

said softly.  "Whether you like it or not, you're going to have to let us in.  Me and that

gang of four.  We're here for you.  You can't chase us away.  You can't lock the door on

us - because, as you know, I happen to have all the keys to this place…" He paused and

the sparkle was back in his voice.  "Or at least Mrs. Leadingham knows where I can get

the keys."

      "I suppose a padlock wouldn't work, would it?"

      "Nope.  That's what the Secret Service are for."

      Leo nodded, resigned.

      "Good, now that we've got that settled," said Bartlet briskly, hopping up from his

chair, "I think the best thing for me to do is let you get some rest."  He walked across the

small space separating the two men and leaned down.  His voice softened.  "You don't

know how sorry I am about all this, Leo.  If there was just something that I could do -"

      Leo reached up, grasping the President's arm.  His own voice was firm.

      "There's nothing you could have done, Jed.  This wasn't your fault. Any of it.  It's

just payback time for my own stupidity."

      Bartlet shook his head.  "No, no.  You've already paid that bill long ago.  They're

trying to hurt me by going after you and their succeeding.  Big time."

      "I'm so sorry…."

      "Stop that," the President ordered sternly.  "Don't you dare let those bastards

win."  One hand gripped a blanket-clad shoulder.  "I mean it now.        We're in this together

and I promise you, we'll get out of it - together."

      Leo nodded, wordless.

      Satisfied, Bartlet now straightened and moved quickly back to the door.  As he

stepped through, he called back, his voice curiously husky.

      "I need you, my friend.  So you have to stay…."

      The door was pulled closed.

 

      Toby stood beside the sofa, looking down at the sleeping man.  One hand lightly

stroking his beard, he turned away and looked around the office, letting his eyes roam

across the crowded room.  Memories of raucous meetings and feverish planning sessions

drifted past before he was called back to the present by a weary voice.

      "Toby…."

      Quickly he turned, his hand falling to his side as he looked down solemnly to

meet the man's eyes.

      "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" he now asked quietly.

      Leo shook his head slowly, dragging it across the pillow.

      "No.  That's okay."

      Abruptly Toby's eyes fell, his hands jamming themselves into rumbled coat

pockets. 

      Leo waited, knowing that he couldn't rush the silent man before him.  When he

was ready, his Communication's Director would tell him what was causing the wrinkled

brow and downcast eyes.

      "I just thought that I should render our apologies…"  Toby broke off, gesturing

widely around the room, "all of us - our apologies for today.  We had no right to -"

      "Yes you did," Leo interrupted him.  Now it was his turn to look away as he

stared up at the ceiling.  "You were all just trying to help.  I know that."

      "Sir -"

      "No, let me finish, Toby," insisted Leo.  "I've kind of gotten used to looking out

for myself, you know?"  Toby nodded.  "And it's just been - difficult - to let anybody

in."  His voice dropped, a bitter sorrow coating it, "I've made such a mess of everything,

of my life, of other people's lives - people I care deeply about.  And I didn't want to put

anyone through that again.  I'd promised myself that I would never drag anyone else

down again."

      "You're not dragging us down, sir," Toby now answered, sounding out his words

slowly.  "You're what keeps this place up.  Without you there would be no White House

\- for any of us.  Without you \-- these halls would be empty."

      Leo turned his head away from the man standing before him, pressing his cheek

into the pillow hard.

      Dimly, Leo heard the other man's voice, the words soft.  "It will always be good

intentions for all of us.  No matter what.  We may manage to mess up the delivery but

there will never be anything else but the intent to do good."  For just a moment, a hand

lay gently across Leo's brow, brushing the hair back before the room was again empty

except for the exhausted man.

 

      "Sam!" a woman's voice cried out in a strangled whisper.  A muffled thump and a

stifled exclamation dragged the sleeping man back to the surface.  Fuzzily, Leo listened,

too weary to open his eyes.

      "I didn't know that chair was there," he heard Sam explain in a chastened

whisper.

      "Forget it," he heard CJ hiss impatiently.  "Just put it back and let's check on

Leo."

      "Okay."

      Another muffled thump and footsteps approached him.

      "He's looking better!" said Sam in a hastily muffled voice.

      "You think so?" CJ murmured dubiously.  "He looks so tired, Sam.  Why didn't

we see this before?"

      "Probably because he didn't want us to see it, CJ," answered Sam.  "I don't think

you can see anything that he doesn't want you to see."

      "But we should have," she insisted, her voice rising for a moment before she

abruptly dropped it again.  "We should have…."

      "We're here for him now," Sam comforted her.  "We're not going anyplace."

      "Right."  A deep sigh. "Okay."

      "Do you think he's comfortable?  Maybe we should get him something?" the

man's voice rumbled.

      "The best thing we can get him is a little peace and quiet," CJ insisted firmly. 

      Through slitted eyes, Leo watched CJ take Sam's arm and turn him towards the

door.

      "We can check back in a little later.  I want to try a recipe - I think it just might

do the trick - get him eating again."

      "Okay," Sam said agreeably.

      Bemused, Leo watched as the two tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door

noiselessly behind them.

 

      The papers were gathered up and now lay in a sloppy pile in the middle of the

floor.  He had tried to hold onto the folders but they had slipped through his loose grip

and their contents had scattered.  He had stood for a long moment, his head bowed, one

folder still held tightly, before he stiffly fell to his knees and began the work again

      Behind him the door opened and, for a moment, he froze, hunched over, one hand

pressing down on a pile of papers.  As the footsteps drew closer he slowly straightened

and, looking sightlessly ahead, called out.

      "Help me…."

      "Gladly," a voice rang out cheerfully as Joshua Lyman knelt down close beside

him and reached out a long arm, his fingers sweeping all the written words up.

 

The End

 

      


End file.
